


Smoke and the Stars

by toomanyshipstosail



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, I suck at tagging, Kind of fluffy, Light Angst, Smoking, if that offends I’m sorry, not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 08:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13497988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanyshipstosail/pseuds/toomanyshipstosail
Summary: “Time passes, she finishes her drink. She makes an excuse to Bodhi, squeezes him on the shoulder as she gets up to leave, and departs.She’s walking aimlessly through the cold and deserted halls. Normally she wouldn’t allow herself the luxury of turning the thinking side of her brain off, but, she’s onboard the cruiser, and allows herself to switch off for a bit.Being part of a unit is, unfamiliar. She’s been so used to being on her own, she doesn’t remember what it’s like to have beings unquestionably, unequivocally have her back. Of course Rogue One is her little family, but, it’s hard being in constant contact with people.”





	Smoke and the Stars

It was one of those rare occasions. No one was out on a mission. For the most part, everyone was hale and hearty physically. Mentally, Jyn knew this was not true.

They were aboard the Mon Cal flagship of the fleet, _Home One_ , and anyone who wasn’t on a flight hold were in a canteen the rebels had turned into a bar.

Say what you will about the rebels; the beings all loved their libations.

She’s not surprised, really. Enough time fighting, they all had their demons. Most beings found it easier to drink their cares away.

She’s been sitting in one of the corner tables. The one that offers her a full view of the festivities, and also provides cover from 2 directions. Old habits die hard and all that.

Bodhi was telling some animated tale regarding his last flight in an A Wing. She leaned back in the chair she was inhabiting, raising up on 2 legs. She was only half listening, and nursing the Corellian brandy in front of her.

She scanned the room. There were parts of her she really wished she could turn off. The constant scanning. Constant threat assessment.

She finds him across the room. Even through the haze of the tbacc smoke and dimmed lights, his posture is unmistakable. She can only see the back of him, until he turns towards Kes Dameron to respond to the question posited to him. His brow furrows (only microscopically) as he adjusts his stance. Choosing to lean his right hip on the bar, he faces the other man, being sure that he can still see the exit.

The action is meant to appear relaxed, nonchalant even. She feels a worrying pang within her. She notices he’s standing almost too still, like he’s still nursing those bruised ribs from that cluster of a mission on Taanab three weeks ago. She quells the sigh that she so desperately wishes to exhale.

They both have their missions. Hers with the pathfinders, his with intel. It’s nice when the two cross paths, and she feels this has been occurring more than usual lately. She chalks it up to the need of the Rebellion. It’s logical that you need braun and brains. She quiets the small voice inside her head that he is much safer with her there.

She’s not saying he can’t handle himself, but she blames herself for the ribs. She should have been the one first around the corner of that block of tenement buildings. He stopped her at the last moment, and she allowed him to go first. They had startled the Imp that had been searching for them, so the first thing that had come to his senses was to get in a fistfight. With Cassian. Instead of her.

It’s almost as though he can feel her gaze. He chooses this moment to turn his head in her direction. She decides to lean her weight forward and drop back down to 4 legs of the chair. She picks up her glass of brandy at this moment, gives him an almost imperceptible head tilt (to which he reciprocates, which sends her head mildly spinning), and takes a long pull of the warming liquid.

Cassian resumes his conversation with Kes, and the two talk animatedly about something that she wish she could hear.

She reengages into Bohdi’s conversation. This makes him light up, and he continues to talk about their last run, using his hands to display all of the twists and turns that occur in a dog fight.

She smiles lightly at all the right moments. She is happy that Bodhi has found his place in the Rebellion. She thinks back to her life before the Rebellion. She purposefully skips the whole captured, sentenced, and shipped off to an Imp labor camp part.

Time passes, she finishes her drink. She makes an excuse to Bodhi, squeezes him on the shoulder as she gets up to leave, and departs.

She’s walking aimlessly through the cold and deserted halls. Normally she wouldn’t allow herself the luxury of turning the thinking side of her brain off, but, she’s onboard the cruiser, and allows herself to switch off for a bit.

Being part of a unit is, unfamiliar. She’s been so used to being on her own, she doesn’t remember what it’s like to have beings unquestionably, unequivocally have her back. Of course Rogue One is her little family, but, it’s hard being in constant contact with people.

What she needs is some alone time. Quiet. No one talking. No one around. Force, she’d even just take being left alone for 20 minutes.

In her wandering, she’s found herself in one of the x-wing hangars. This squadron must be on recall, as there are no techs, only a hand full of droids around, and the main hangar doors are open, leaving just the magcon with an amazing view of whatever system they’re in.

She unconsciously walks towards the view, finds a crate nearby, and hauls herself up onto it. She swings her legs unconsciously, boot heels thumping the side of her makeshift perch.

She digs in one of her front pockets on her vest, hunting for the smoke she bummed from Melshi. She doesn’t smoke often, but she finds some sort of comfort in it. Her parents never smoked, but in her adopted life, with Saw, there was always someone lit up like a chimney.

She finds what she’s searching for, then leans to the left, so she can have better access to her right front trouser pocket. She pulls out an unassuming lighter, while simultaneously putting the smoke on her lips. She strikes the lighter once, twice, three times before swearing.

“Kriffing piece of bantha-“

“Those things will kill you, you know.”

She all but jumps off the crate. Her head whips in the direction of the voice, and she’s sure she looks ridiculous. Lips wrapped around the smoke while she was cursing, and halfway to smacking the rebellious lighter on the crate, she must be a sight to behold. As soon as she registers who the owner of the voice is, her shoulders relax from the tension of the startle, and completes the motion of whacking the lighter on the crate, before raising it up and blowing into the wind protector.

“Tell it to get in line, right behind the Empire.”

At that he chuckles, and a half smirk etched on his face. She could die a happy woman if Cassian did that more often.

He walks silently up to her, and stands next to the crate she’s appropriated. He leans up against it, and gazes out the magcon.

She returns to her task, unable to get her lucky lighter to work. She sighs in defeat, and slumps her shoulders.

Before she can put the smoke back in her vest, his left hand is before her face, with a perfect flame on what appears to be a very battered lighter.

She raises her eyebrows, “I thought you said this would kill me?”

“Hmm.” Is all she gets in response.

Never one to look a gift tauntaun in the mouth, she leans forward, and lights the smoke. She takes a long drag, and exhales quietly.

He deftly flicks the lighter closed, and tucks it back in his pocket.

They stay silent for a few moments, but it never feels awkward. Both enjoying the quiet, and staring out towards the stars.

She feels the t’bacc hit her, it starts in the pit of her stomach, like a warm buzz, and for some reason, maybe it’s because she’s glancing sideways to drink him in, it pools towards her core as well.

He breaks the companionable silence, “Any particular reason you’re hiding in a hangar smoking?”

“I’m not hiding!”

He turns his head to her, a smile on his face that reaches his eyes. It’s so rare that she sees this smile, she wishes he would do it more.

“Okay, maybe I am,” she says quietly. “It’s just, I don’t know. Kriff. I don’t know if I can explain it.”

He waits patiently for an answer. He’s not pressing her for one, and he’d leave it at that if she didn’t continue. He crosses his arms across his chest, and returns to looking ahead.

She takes another drag, compiling her thoughts.

“I’m just not used to,” she gestures with the smoke in her hand, “ _this_. I was on my own for so long, and before that, the Partisan’s weren’t the most chummy of bunches. While I am content and pleased with this new little family we have, it can feel...” she pauses, not knowing the word she wants to use.

He nods. “Overwhelming.”

Her buzz continues within her, and she is so very thankful for Cassian. He understands her. Probably more than she realises, and, she can’t temper the swell of her heart at this thought.

“Yes. Sometimes, I just feel, like I’m about to lose my mind. Too many people, too much contact. It’s like I’m over amped, and the fuse hasn’t tripped, but it’s going to.” She sees understanding in his eyes as he turns back to her.

“You came out here to be alone. It’s hard to find a quiet bit of battle cruiser, and you succeeded until I barged in.”

At this she laughed, a singular snort. “Cassian, I don’t think you barge anywhere. I’m usually the bantha in a china shop.”

His eyes scanned her face, unsure if he was allowed to laugh or not.

“Oh, c’mon, Kay can joke about my stealth skills, and I can’t?” She leans to her right and bumps her shoulder with his. “It was a joke, Cass.”

He bumps his shoulder back to hers, and stays. The physical contact isn’t much, but she drinks it in, all the same. They remain this way for a minute, then he stands straight, no longer leaning towards her. She almost makes a noise of complaint, but holds it in.

“Far be it from me to intrude. Find me if you need me?”

She nods and takes another drag, suddenly wishing that he would stay. Unconsciously she reaches out, and grabs his wrist while he was turning to leave.

“Please, stay with me?”

She feels like she sounds desperate. Like a small child. She expects him to turn and walk away, as that’s what everyone has done in her life.

He turns back, and in one swift motion, entwines their fingers. Jyn feels like a massive weight has been lifted off her chest. He gets her, down to her core.

“As long as you’ll have me.”

She scoots over on the crate, and he hops up to sit with her. The smoke is finished, but she doesn’t get up. She tilts her head over onto his shoulder, and she can feel rather than hear the hum that courses through him.

“Thank you, Cass.”

He tilts his head down to look at her face. Her eyes are closed, a faint smile on her lips. He’s never seen her look more at peace, nor more radiant than she does right now.

“For what?”

“For always coming to find me when I need you most.”

He smiles, and whispers into her hair as he brushes his lips to the crown of her head, “Of course. You are my home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> I relate to Jyn so much, I think I’ve made that fairly evident. 
> 
> Our bbs are still kind of broken here, I haven’t decided if this is after Hoth, or before, but, you can decide that.
> 
> Also, this totally got away from me. Why does that always happen?
> 
> Sorry for any errors! This was done on my phone, and not my laptop. Also, I’m too shy for a beta, so, there’s that.
> 
> Have I mentioned I love these two?


End file.
